


The Common Tongue

by wild_moors



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I get way too attached to side characters, Ibis is trying to pick up the pieces, happens every time dang it, he's doing his best okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wild_moors/pseuds/wild_moors
Summary: The loss of the Dragon King and the unborn Prince has shaken all of Xadia to its core, the Queen most of all. In these dark times, Ibis wonders what one elf can do when he has not the power to exact vengeance on his Queen's behalf, nor the words to alleviate her pain.
Relationships: Ibis & Zubeia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Common Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> So I binged The Dragon Prince in under twenty-four hours and have just now become emotionally ready to write fanfiction about it :D
> 
> Seriously, I have Feelings about these characters. And I don't know why, but Ibis and Zubeia? I just had to write something for them. He obviously is very devoted to her and cares a great deal for her, as a subject and, in my humble opinion, as a confidant/friend, and I imagine that Zubeia is a great queen and cares for him too. Also, this is my excuse for delving a little into Ibis's backstory too.

When he’s regained his composure, Ibis quickly dashes a hand across his eyes and gives the cracked, petrified body of the Dragon King one last bow and turns towards what he is sure to take an even heavier toll on his heart.

The halls of the Storm Spire are empty, even his soft steps echoing, reflecting the loneliness back at him from all sides. Up here, he can feel a vast, all-encompassing connection to the Sky stronger than anywhere else in the world, but even that’s not enough to ward off the emptiness pervading the halls. Queen Zubeia _is_ the Sky, in many ways, and the Sky knows what has been lost.

And once, these halls were frequented by elves, too—the Dragonguard. Bitterness fills his heart at the thought of Lain and Tiadrin, and Hendyr, and all the rest. Despite the evidence, he can’t bring himself to believe that they would simply abandon their duty in the face of danger, not after having known them for so long.

No matter what they did or didn’t do, though, the pieces are still here on the ground for him to try and pick back up.

He pauses in the round antechamber. Each of the Queen’s breaths could be heard and felt even from outside the Storm Spire; as a Skywing elf, he can feel the currents of the air as they stir and flow, but the weight of every breath, as if it is difficult for her to even draw, jolts him to an abrupt stop in his tracks, his heart curling inward on itself.

For a second, he finds himself at a loss for what to do. What can he, one elf mage, do for a mother who lost a mate and a child in the space of hours? Dragons are long-lived compared to elves; hours seem like the blink of an eye, and Zubeia had her world torn apart in what seems to her an instant.

His fingers curl around his staff for reassurance as he steels himself. It’s not about him, he reminds himself. He’s here to help, and however difficult it is for him, it doesn’t matter. If it’s for the Queen, he’ll find a way to make things better.

It’s the middle of the day, and usually, she’s not sleeping, but all he can see as he slowly passes into the royal chambers is a wall of scales, interspersed with patches of her white cloud-like mane. Her wings are folded like curtains of velvet, rising and falling almost imperceptibly with every breath. The Queen is not a small Archdragon, but the royal chambers are too large without two to fill the space.

The sunlight soaks into her scales, coloring them a dark blue, like the belly of a storm, but they don’t shine, and her mane, while clean, is matted and hangs limply in places. He can tell she hasn’t been taking care of herself. Even in her sleep, she looks so exhausted, and the void in the hollowed space her tail is curled around leaves a similar hole in his heart.

Ibis is not typically inclined to violence, but for once, he wishes humans would pay in blood for what they’ve done.

But now isn’t the time for anger.

Her brow furrows briefly before discs of sapphire flutter open; he can see himself in them like a mirror, but their surface is glassy, hollow. She blinks audibly, then lets out a soft hum, raising her head off the floor slowly, the large and small plates on her neck flexing with every movement.

“Ibis,” she murmurs as he sinks to one knee. “Rise, dear. How lovely to see you again.”

“Your Majesty,” he responds, mustering a quiet smile as he rises, ignoring his aching muscles.

The grief in her voice resonates with each word. Her tail curls in on itself, sweeping over the empty space where Azymondias, the Dragon Prince, should lie in his mother’s embrace.

Avizandum’s stone-encased body is nothing but a testament to the humans’ cruelty, and Azymondias didn’t even have a body to bury.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss,” he whispers, but the words in his breath seem so insubstantial in the wake of what the humans left behind. “As are my parents, and the rest of the tribe.”

Zubeia simply inclines her head slightly in acknowledgement; even that small movement seems to cost her precious energy.

“How are Peregrine and Piper doing these days?” she asks instead, changing the topic.

“They’re alright.” Shaken to the core, like the rest of Xadia. “Humans have been getting more and more adventurous, so Mother is in charge of pushing them back.”

Her mane ripples, a flash of white peeking out as her lip curls back in a rare show of open distaste for the mention of humans. The air crackles with the smell of ozone for a moment as her mane ripples, then it dissipates, the cloud-like strands draping limply to the floor again.

“I am glad that Peregrine is amongst those defending our borders,” she rumbles, claws curling in the soft grass. “If she ever needs help, she should not be afraid to ask it.”

Ibis would almost be glad if Zubeia showed some anger, anything other than this exhaustion. He, along with possibly every single elf and magical creature in Xadia, felt the skies quake when she screamed, and it stormed so violently for days that Ibis couldn’t leave his house until a few days ago. He literally hadn’t had the strength to help her in her time of incandescent rage and grief, but he can’t stand to believe that _all_ hope is lost.

There has to be something left to rebuild from.

With a sigh, she folds her paws and resting her head on them so they’re eye to eye again. “What of Piper?”

“She’s...disappointed,” he admits. His mom has always had a fondness for humans, having travelled amongst them undercover for some time, picking up ditties and folksongs on her lyre. She’s always been the idealist between his parents, believing in the potential of humans even when the entire rest of Xadia would not, except now…

Zubeia hums softly, staring blankly at a spot on the wall, eyes half-lidded, lost in thought. The seconds drag into minutes, and he wonders how much of her time she spends like this now, stuck between thinking and being, as if in limbo.

What does he _say?_ How can he make this any less painful for her?

He shifts slightly in an attempt to relieve the ache in his arms and shoulders, sore from hours of flying with mage wings. The slight movement seems to bring the Queen back to reality.

“My apologies,” she sighs. “You’ve travelled a long way. I won’t keep you from your rest. Your chambers are how you left them.”

He nods, still trying to find _something_ to say. “Thank you, Your Majesty...Your Majesty, I…”

Ibis grew up under the Storm Archdragons’ rule. With his mother being the Skywing mage stationed at the Storm Spire, he was lucky enough to meet Avizandum and Zubeia when he was just an elfling. Avizandum and his booming voice, like thunder and lightning, scared him, but Zubeia was more like the wind, warm and welcoming—yet with the capacity for destruction perhaps even beyond that of her mate’s.

He grew up with them, and he would do anything to lessen her pain, but what can one elf do that an Archdragon cannot?

Still, it is his duty to try.

“If you ever need something, whatever it is, I am here for you,” he vows, hoping that he is not overstepping his position.

Zubeia blinks slowly at him, eyes still shadowed with grief. After a moment, she snorts softly at him in a gesture that he knows to be affection, and the warm air curls around him, easing some of the ache in his muscles.

“That is kind of you, Ibis. And appreciated. Get some rest.”

~~~

While Ibis is relieved that Zubeia does not put up too much of a fight against him staying here long-term—she was mostly concerned that he would not get to go home much—her lack of resistance worries him. Even though Zubeia has always been a reasonable Queen, she is a dragon, and dragons should be notoriously proud by default.

As he unpacks his belongings, he finds a long, thin, cylindrical object at the bottom of his pack. A smile tugs at his lips as he pulls out his flute, memories streaming back to him like the melodies they contain.

~~~

_At six years old, Ibis was pretty sure there was nothing more ridiculous than a dragon pouting. At another dragon. Who was pouting back._

_All the other elflings had been jealous of when he got to visit the Storm Spire with his parents, but he wasn’t quite sure this was what his classmates meant._

_It all started with his mom. She’d brought her lyre, and apparently, his mother had expressed great fondness for her wife’s music to the Dragon King and Queen, who insisted on having a performance (along with the Dragonguard at the time). Piper was all too happy to oblige with the help of a sound-amplification spell from her wife, and Zubeia cooed in adoration as Peregrine swept Ibis up to dance, the wings sprouting from her lower back moving fluidly with the rest of her._

_Even the Dragon King Avizandum didn’t seem so intimidating when his claws and tail were twitching merrily to the beat. And he grumbled, but he knew better than to displease his mate by refusing to dance with her. A tiny smile appeared on his enormous maw when she nuzzled his neck happily. They reminded Ibis of his own parents, and suddenly, they didn’t seem so intimidating anymore._

_“You have quite the repertoire,” Zubeia complimented Piper with a craggy smile, her tail sweeping back and forth with an almost jittery energy. “Where did you learn the last one? That was fantastic, right, Zan?”_

_Her mate grunted, and Peregrine leaned over to whisper to her wife with a grin, “That’s high praise from the King. Well-deserved, of course.”_

_Piper giggled and leaned over to peck her cheek. “What a flatterer.”_

_“Yeah, it almost sounded like a mix between some of the elf races,” commented one of the Dragonguard sitting nearby. “Like, maybe that softer part was from the Moonshadows, those heavy chords from the Earthblood, and the—the-” They made a hand motion with one arm, mimicking fluctuations with an according sound effect that made Ibis giggle. “From the Tidebound?”_

_Piper beamed. “Actually, I picked that one up when I was travelling undercover in the human kingdoms! It’s one of my personal favorites, so I’m glad you liked it!”_

_Ibis, though starting to drift off, couldn’t miss the frisson that went through the air and all those present, sending everyone into a silence. His mother suddenly wore a slightly wary expression, and Ibis blinked. Did Mom say something wrong?_

_Zubeia’s tail twitched; it looked as if a cloud had suddenly jumped. The air crackled, and Ibis felt it in his chest as Avizandum’s eyes narrowed, claws curling slowly-_

_“Well, it was absolutely beautiful,” Zubeia declared, a pleased smile on her maw, and it was like a great pressure had suddenly lifted, like a breath of fresh air after a relentless storm. “It is astonishing how such vast differences can be overlooked, if but for a moment, in the face of such wonderful melodies. Please do play it again, Piper, if you would be so kind?”_

_Brimming with glee, Piper agreed enthusiastically, plucking a few strings on her lyre in preparation. When Peregrine laid a cautionary hand over Piper’s, though, Ibis looked up at his mother in confusion and followed her gaze towards the Archdragons._

_The expression on Avizandum’s face could be best described as a_ pout, _no matter how Ibis tried to see it differently. The winds kicked up slightly, as if they were a precursor to (as ridiculous as it sounded) a temper tantrum._

_“Human things have no place here,” he grumbled, packing an extra bit of spark to the first word, and Ibis shrunk back a little; even Piper looked uneasy now._

_But Zubeia, Queen of the Dragons, was resolutely undaunted, and she arched her neck, looking down her elegant snout and pouting right back at her mate._

_“Music is the common tongue of all creatures,” she stated with a toss of her mane, narrowing her eyes at her mate. “However insignificant they might be. Even the smallest cicada’s melodies are worth listening to. And besides, that song was pretty, and it was easy to dance to, and I liked it.”_

_The Dragonguard, Ibis, and his parents were all watching, heads turning back and forth. Finally, Avizandum, King of the Dragons, rolled his eyes to the skies he ruled and let out a heaving sigh, a rush of wind tousling everyone’s hair and robes as it whistled through the cavern, settling finally with a distinctly grumpy tone that Ibis could feel in his bones._

_Zubeia beamed and turned back to Piper, looking very pleased with herself. “Once more, then, my dear?”_

~~~

The thin piece of wood is smooth to the touch as his fingers dance across the holes, muscle memory leaping unbound to his hands.

“The common tongue,” he whispers to himself, before lifting the instrument to his lips.

The note purrs, warm and vibrant; it chases away the feeling of grief permeating the halls, if only for a moment. He’s sore and tired from flying all the way here almost nonstop, but the air feels heavy, and he’s not sure if he can sleep just yet.

~~~

“I heard you practicing last night.”

Ibis blinks, frozen for a moment in the process of watering the plants in her chambers. “Oh. I apologize, Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Zubeia shrugs, as best as a dragon can shrug. “Do not worry yourself. I wasn’t asleep.” With a fond, albeit bittersweet smile, she continues, “You haven’t lost your touch. I remember when you and Piper would come visit us here.” Resting her chin on her front paws, she sighs nostalgically. “You were such a wee little thing. Peregrine would let you stand on her feet and twirl you around the room; it was the sweetest thing…” She sighs again, a little lonelier this time. “Where does the time go?”

Unsure of how to respond, he just smiles, mildly embarrassed and now feeling similarly nostalgic, and keeps watering the plants on the perimeter. He’ll get to Azymondias’s would-be nest later, if Zubeia can find the energy to get up. The cavern is empty and dark without the merry glow of his egg.

He wishes he had the words to express how deeply, profoundly saddened he is by the loss of her mate and her egg. He wishes he had the words that could comfort her, give her back some of the vitality she’d ruled the skies with alongside her mate. He wishes he had the words to make the sky in her eyes look just a little less bleak.

He’s finished watering all the plants he could, though she doesn’t seem to have noticed, instead staring at Azymondias’s nest. Her breathing is slow and sluggish; all the way up here, gravity feels stronger than ever, pulling them down, down, down.

“Would you like me to play something?” he finds himself asking. It’s selfish of him; it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and the last thing he wants is to be insensitive while she's mourning, but _anything_ would do, as long as it’s something different from this monotony.

And where words fail, surely music can find a way; it’s what his mom always said.

Zubeia doesn’t even look at him, too deep in her own thoughts. His shoulders slump as he prepares to leave when suddenly, she lets out another sigh. This one feels lighter, somehow.

“Yes,” she agrees with a tiny smile, lifting her head from the ground, and for the first time since they received the news, his heart lifts. “That would be lovely.”

And while music could never replace the sounds of a baby dragon’s squeaks and chirps that should be filling these halls, it makes hope feel just a little bit more within reach.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I always get attached to minor characters but I love them so much T^T
> 
> I don't even have the words to express how heartbroken I was when Avizandum died (like, that scene? where he was reaching for his son? with TEARS in his eyes? I cried). I don't know why Zubeia wasn't there, but my heart sobbed at the idea of her coming home to find that both her mate and her son had, to the best of her knowledge, been killed by humans.
> 
> Also, I definitely believe that Ibis was fully prepared to stay and defend Zubeia to the best of his abilities against Viren's army. He told Callum to take Zym and run, but I'm sure he would've stayed to fight, even though he knew (to the best of his knowledge) that he would be fighting alone (except for Pyrrah and maybe some other dragons, since they didn't know human reinforcements were coming at the time). He wasn't Dragonguard, but he would've never abandoned Zubeia.
> 
> I know Zubeia might seem a little tame, especially since she did order the deaths of Harrow and Ezran later, but she also reacted very well when she woke up later to find humans standing in her chambers? I have a feeling she was definitely the more level-headed one between her and Avizandum, more willing to compromise and think before, y'know, throwing lightning or something. I don't think vengeance would've been her very first thought; this is her mourning period. Later, she'll think about that, maybe after the humans do something else, but right now, she's still grieving.
> 
> Also, Ibis too handled the arrival of humans to the Storm Spire pretty well. Granted, it was during very unusual circumstances, but he answered Callum's questions politely and all, so I have a feeling he's okay with humans, even if he's never met them, so I gave him a small reason why he would've been willing to adapt so quickly to the unusual circumstances. Also, he is definitely at least a tiny bit of a showboat, especially when it comes to his mage wings XD I feel like it's in the way he talks too sometimes. I have a feeling he'd totally show off his musical abilities if given the chance as well :D
> 
> By the way, when it comes to Zubeia and Avizandum, Zubeia always Gets What She Wants. I don't make the rules :)


End file.
